Brothers
by Stefan-sama
Summary: FE9/10: The childhood of the Three Brothers, switching perspectives. The story of how they grew up, how they were utterly broken, and how they joined the Greil Mercenaries. Slight OscarxAstrid, I suppose, as well as BoydxMist.
1. Family, and Counting

**THIS... IS... CRIMEA!!!! Actually, it's my latest story. There isn't really any backstory for the Three Brothers in the games, so I thought I'd give it a shot. Please review, I need the self-confidence. Also, here's some shameless plug-ins for my other stories: Finally (Fire Emblem) and The Fragrance of Dark Coffee, Indeed (Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney). Vote for my poll, too, it's only got two as of writing, and the second one is me. Anyway, I really like this story because of Boyd, so enjoy!**

**Brothers**

**Chapter I: Family, and Counting**

I had always been smart. Father kept commenting on that. Boyd would come to me with his schoolwork (which he usually was perfectly capable of doing himself). My mother would tell me how great things were in store for me. Boyd's and the current one would say roughly the same. That's why I knew the latest two were just patronizing me in an attempt (which was mostly futile, at least for me) to get closer to Father and I. That's why I knew we were screwed.

One loaf of bread was definitely not enough to feed a family of four, soon to be five. Father was lucky, he still had his job as a farmer. But, of course, farmers barely got paid anything at all. The economy was in turmoil, so neither Father's current wife or myself could find a job. We definitely wouldn't last the winter.

A click came from the door. Boyd entered, looking puzzled and clutching his stuffed cat and a picture book. "Big Brother, what's this word mean?" he asked.

He flopped down on the bed next to me, pointing at the word with his right hand, his left in his mouth. Specifically, his thumb. "Ah, that's a tough one." I responded. "The 'K' is silent. It says 'Knight'."

At mention of the word "Knight", a new flame lit in Boyd's eyes. "Cool! I want to be a knight when I grow up and beat up all the bad guys!" he grinned, swinging an imaginary axe in wide arcs. "Hi-ya!" "Take that!" he cried happily. Then he tripped and fell.

Of course, nobody in the family would approve of Boyd's chosen profession, especially Father. My mother had been a knight herself, fighting for the honor and glory of Crimea. What had that done for her? Gotten her killed, while the noblemen had just sat back, watched, and pressed on, not knowing a thing about weapons or war or strategy or resources or food for the soldiers or the lives they gambled, and frankly, not caring. Being a knight was just plain stupid; honor and glory didn't provide for your family. Though they usually correlated somehow.

A voice sounded from downstairs. "Oscar, Boyd! Time for dinner!" Boyd lit up even more at the prospect of food and literally flew down the steps. Father was sitting at the table, looking extremely tired but happy nonetheless. His wife, Julia, was standing next to the stove and stirring a large pot, her belly looking even bigger than yesterday. Our new sibling would probably be coming in less than a month, possibly a week. In her hand she held multiple heads of cabbage. "Look, boys!" she smiled. "A big merchant cart tipped over on the south road! We're having cabbage stew tonight!"

Boyd tugged on my sleeve, looking distinctly downhearted. He stood on his toes while I bent down to meet his cupped hands. "But, Big Brother…" he whispered unhappily into my ear. "I don't like vegetables…" Not that I blamed him. Of course, no small child likes vegetables, and the cooking skills of Julia meant instant death.

___________________________

I tossed and turned that night, but I couldn't sleep at all. It was probably either the lack of food or the quality, probably both. For at least an hour after Boyd and I had been sent to bed, I swore I could have heard father hurling in the toolshed as so not to hurt Julia's feelings. Actually, I was surprised Boyd hadn't snapped and eaten the grass or robbed the inn or something.

My room was small and dark, the only light coming from the tiny window, filtering in the cold moonlight. It shone down on my desk, which was mostly clear, save for a lone sketch of my mother. She was beautiful, her green hair flowing down past her shoulders, a simple dress enveloping her fair figure, a smile on her lips. She was always happiest around Father, and the feelings were reciprocal. Until she was killed.

I never knew the details; Father would always refuse to talk about it. I did a little investigating of my own, and she was sent on a suicide mission during the last civil war on behalf of House Crimea, never giving a second thought, always following orders faithfully. It was on that same mission that Father was injured and was forced to resign from the army.

Then he met Boyd's mother in the hospital he was taken to. They loved each other a lot, but Father never was able to show her the same feelings he did Mother. They were only together a short time; she quickly succumbed to her illness. He was devastated and reclusive for years, he was practically a walking corpse.

Until he met Julia. Julia used to be a farmer as well, but she was laid off shortly after meeting Father due to the economic crisis. Father took pity on her, then fell in love for the last time. And we were about to have a new family member.

Not that Boyd wasn't enough trouble. Unlike me, Boyd was an exact copy of Father: he never thought much, he was extremely stubborn, he was tall (at least for his age), he was strong, and he had a gargantuan appetite. Just about the only differences was age and hair color, and the fact that Boyd still thought that girls had cooties.

A soft knock on the door sounded from behind me. Boyd stood in the doorway, rubbing his eyes groggily. "Big Brother, I can't sleep…" he mumbled. I motioned for him to come in, and he thumped down belly-first on the bed on top of his stuffed cat. "Hey, Big Brother, when's the baby coming?"

I stifled a chuckle. Amazing what would torment a kid so much. "I don't know, but I'm guessing really soon."

Boyd lit up again, most likely unable to wait at the prospect of being an older sibling. Then his brow furrowed again. "Oscar, you're old enough to get a job, right? Why don't you become a knight?"

The question caught me off guard. I scratched the back of my neck, trying to come up with a suitable answer. "Um… Well, being a knight is really dangerous, and Daddy and Mommy wouldn't want to lose me. But, whatever I do become, I'll get paid really well, so we can have meat every day!"

Boyd stared blankly ahead for a few seconds, sucking his thumb in contemplation. Then he broke into an ear-to-ear grin. "Yay! I like meat!"


	2. Parade, and Chaos

**Chapter 2!! This one takes place from Boyd's POV, so it's a lot funnier than the last chapter. I modified my writing style for this one and made it simpler, more like a little kid's. I wonder if anyone could tell... Anyway, sorry, no Rolf yet, I'm estimating chapter 4 he'll show up. On that note, enjoy!**

**Chapter 2: Parade, and Chaos**

I woke up that morning to the sound of drums. Really loud drums. And trumpets. And more drums. And I think there was a flute or two.

I remembered back to the book I read the other day: _The army marched, saying they were coming beating drums…_

I threw on my bathrobe and ran into Oscar's room. "Big Brother, Big Brother! It's war! The Daeins are attacking! Quick, we have to run! Wake up!" He mumbled something I couldn't make out, then covered his head with his pillow and rolled over grumpily. So I slapped him with the free pillow.

And yelled in his ear.

"WAKE UP!!!!!!!"

He sat straight up and smacked me with his own pillow in return. He scratched the back of his neck moodily, rubbing his eyes. "Boyd, why don't you look out the window _before_ making such a ruckus…?"

I blinked, Twice. That had never occurred to me. I looked outside, and judging by the mood of the shouting and the formation of the people, it was… Some sort of parade.

Oh.

I turned sheepishly back to Oscar, who was still fuming over lost sleep. Then he broke into a smile. "Well, we might as well see it while we're up, right?" I smiled back, and we tiptoed outside, hand-in-hand.

Almost everyone in town was there watching, despite the early hour. The fanfare was mostly on the part of the village band. Of course, nobody was watching them, all eyes were on what appeared to be a band of mercenaries. I had heard some guys talking about bandits, these guys must have taken care of them.

The leader, or who appeared to be, had a big nose and an axe to match. The knight next to him also had an axe, she had flaming red hair, too. Behind her was another redhead, whose eyes could take down an enemy from fifty feet. There was a big armored guy beside him, laughing his head off. In the back were a guy in a white dress carrying a staff and two kids.

The first one was a blue-haired boy, about Oscar's age, and he had muscles the size of his face. And a sword. Behind him was a younger girl, hiding behind her brother's back. Ew. Though she looked kind of cute, for a girl.

A loud voice to our right made both of us jump. "All right!! I'm going to be a world-class knight when I grow up, just like them!!" It was… Kieran, I think his name was.

Oscar shook his head. "Kieran, look at their armor. The military doesn't issue capes, first of all. Second, a sniper and an axe knight wouldn't be in the same regiment. Third, the army would be too busy counting their money to help out with local problems in Melior itself, let alone a dinky little town like this in the first place.

Kieran's face now matched his hair. "Th- They would so! The military's full of noble intentions and heroes of justice! They're awesome!" After that, they broke into a fight, using both words and fists. I didn't get half of what they were saying, so I wandered back inside.

Daddy was still asleep, but Mommy was at the stove, making eggs she had bought at the market during the parade. She always makes me stay home with Oscar, but I wanted to come along again one of these days. There was meat at the market. Lots of meat. And bread. And custard and pie and dried fruits. And vegetables. Ew. But they were on the opposite side of the market anyway.

Ooh, and they had weapons. Lots and lots of weapons. Axes, too. The one time Mommy let me come, I sat looking at the axes for five whole minutes. Mommy says I have a really short "attention span", whatever that is.

Just as Mommy finished the eggs, Oscar came in, and he was _fuming _mad. Even more mad than the time I spilled milk all over the front of his pants and then the rest were drying and then he had to give a speech in front of his whole class at school and then everyone laughed at him and then someone called him a baby and then he got into a fight and then he got grounded for a month. And he was pretty mad.

He pulled back his chair forcefully and began attacking his food even more furiously than me and Daddy do, and that's saying something. To be truthful, it kind of scared me. "Um… Big Brother…? What's wrong?"

He gulped down the mouthful he was working on and gasped for air. "I can't believe that, for once in his life, Kieran was actually right! I'm going to join the army!"

Mommy gasped and dropped her pan. Daddy froze in his tracks coming down the stairs. I thought it was cool even though Oscar was acting weird and clapped. Daddy let out a nervous laugh. "S- Sorry, Oscar, but for a moment I thought you sais 'I'm going to join the army'…"

For the first and last time in my life, I saw Oscar glare, and his eyes haunted my dreams for months. "No, you heard me right. The military is corrupted through and through! The only way that's going to change is if someone rises through the ranks and upheaves the whole system! We're going to change the army for the better!"

Then Oscar and Mommy and Daddy got into a fight. I caught "my mother" and "stubborn" and "grounded", but nothing else really made sense. So I went upstairs to play with my wooden horses.

A war and a half later, Oscar trudged upstairs, looking even more tired than Daddy when he came home from work. Mommy always said that none of us men knew the meaning of the word. And she was right. "Work" was just another adult word.

He came into my room, shut the door behind him, and collapsed. "Boyd, listen closely. I'm leaving, and I'm probably not coming back for years. I'll write often, but don't tell Mommy and Daddy, okay?" I nodded slowly, trying to take the information in.

"Oh, another thing. The baby will have come by then, so be a good role model and help Mommy and Daddy." I nodded again. "That's a good boy." He reached over and ruffled my hair. He turned to leave, then paused, turning around again. "I'll send lots of money back, so you can have meat every day. Alright, little brother?"

Oscar smiled for the last time.

And with that, my brother was gone.


	3. Showdown, and Friends

**I'm so sorry!!!!!!!!!! I had a big case of writer's block for my other current story, _I Love You Too, Kitten_(coughreaditnowcoughit'sinthephoenixwright:aceattorneysectioncough), so I forgot about this story. Sorry! As penance, here's the best chapter so far, soon to be followed! Enjoy! **

**Chapter 3: Showdown, and Friends**

If there was one lesson I learned that day, it'd be to never, under any circumstances whatsoever, let Kieran of Crimea drive a cart. Both our faces matched our hair colors that day: him from exhilaration, me from losing my lunch.

The journey to Melior normally took at least a week. We got there that afternoon.

The city was just as I had anticipate. In the far distance sat the golden, gleaming rooftops of the nobility, and right in front of me were dirty streets, impoverished hovels, and desperate-looking peddlers announcing their wares.

We pressed on, hoping to find somewhere to stay that didn't look so depressing. A young boy with a long black cloak and a strange red mark on his forehead directed us to the nearest inn, but the road was blocked by a tremendous, uproarious crowd.

We dismounted, both annoyed and curious, and squeezed through the townspeople to be greeted by a horrific sight.

In the center stood a gang of ruffians. The most masculine one was holding a shy-looking girl roughly our age by the scruff of her neck, choking her. His goons held back a struggling pink-haired girl and who appeared to be her brother, who seemed to not care one way or the other.

The big one was ranting on about "debts" and "drunk" and "pay up". The girl just gasped, with her companions growing agitated and sheepish, respectively. The pink-haired girl finally broke free and threw herself at the leader, getting tossed aside like a rag doll. Her brother turned away, wincing.

That's when Kieran did something extremely stupid, even for him. He stood up, puffed up his chest, placed his balled fists at his side, and yelled at the top of his lungs. "Hey, you there! Release the fair maiden at once, or I shall be forced to bring down the iron fist of justice upon ye all!" I just did a facepalm.

There was silence for a seconds. Then the leader dropped the girl, probably more out of amusement than fear. He burst into a fit of laughter. He was crying so hard, he could barely direct his minions at us.

The pink-haired girl staggered up, winked at me, then reached over and tipped (more like hurled) over a cartful of apples. While the ruffians were busy tripping and stumbling, I hoisted the other girl onto my back, and all five of us made a break for it, the crowd cheering behind us. Actually, more like four, as the other boy just thrust his hands into his pockets and jogged, grinning goofily all the while.

The goons rushed past us blindly as we crouched in a darkened alley. A couple minutes passed in blind silence, none of us daring to move. Then the pink-haired girl began yelling at her brother. I felt kind of sorry for him. "Geez, Makalov!! This is completely your fault!! What does it take for you to stop drinking and gambling, huh?! You lazy, stupid, good-for-nothing, ugly, idiotic, son of a –!"

The black-haired girl cut in right before Makalov was about to become one with the wall. "Please, Marcia…" she said softly. "Stop… Makalov just needs a bit of help, is all… He's calm and collected at all times… He'll make a better knight than both of us combined…"

Marcia turned from Makalov to her companion. "And _you_, Astrid!! You're a Begnion noble, for crying out loud! How could you possibly see _anything_ in this sorry lump of a 'knight'?!?"

The girls began to argue, leaving Makalov relaxing and Kieran and I cowering at Marcia's rage. Marcia finally noticed us after dashing her brother's self-confidence in pieces, if he even had any in the first place. "Oh… Forgot you guys were there. Sorry."

She scratched her head sheepishly in a fashion resembling her brother, pointing at herself and her friends. "As you might have picked up, I'm Marcia, and this is my brother Makalov, and the girl over here is my friend, Lady Astrid." Astrid seemed to object at the title, but Marcia quickly shut her up. "Anyway, we're all from Begnion and hoping to join the Royal Knights. And you two?"

Kieran clapped his hands together. "Excellent! I am known as Kieran the Great, and this is my companion Oscar, both of us born and bred here in the fair land of Crimea. Coincidentally, both of us are aspiring to become legendary knights ourselves. Would you be so kind as to accompany us on our harrowing quest?"

Marcia imitated Kieran's clapping gesture, and Astrid showed a hint of a small smile. Makalov, on the other hand, just picked his nose lazily. Whee.

________________

_May 19, 628_

_Dear Boyd, _

_Melior is such a big place! It's just like that picture book you have says it is; there are shops and stalls everywhere, and the people are all so friendly. They sell all kinds of meat, even dragon, so I'll try some and tell you what it's like._

_The inn here has lots of nice people, but the food stinks, the beds are a mess, and the floor is completely dirty. Kind of like your room. Even the window is blocked by another inn. At least the beds are bouncy._

_I met some new friends today as well. First is a hothead named Marcia. Her hair is pink for some reason, I don't know why. She keeps flirting with me too, but I think she does that with everyone. Astrid is quiet and shy, kind of cute too. In other words, the exact opposite of you. Marcia's brother Makalov has pink hair too, and he's kind of lazy and drunk, but I think you and Marcia would get along well. I never thought I'd say this, but she might actually be able to beat you in an eating contest._

_Anyway, I have to go, I think I can hear Makalov breaking into the inn's wine storage again. Write back soon, alright? How are Mommy and Daddy? I'll come home as soon as I can to visit, but in the meantime, be a good big brother and make us proud._

_ Love,_

_ Oscar_


	4. Little Brother, and Sleeping Troubles

**Sorry for the wait, I was on vacation in Seattle. And it's a pretty short chapter, to boot. On that note, this chapter finally beholds the appearance of the cutest archer/sniper/marksman/whatever, Rolf! Not that it explores his character much, he's a baby... Anyhow, enjoy!**

**Chapter 4: Little Brother, and Sleeping Troubles**

Being kept in the dark is a scary thing, really scary, especially at such an important time. That's true for any kid you meet. Oscar would call it a "crucial moment." But I was sent up to my room anyway, the images of Mommy doubling over, crying out horribly in pain, and Daddy yelling, almost panicking, pointing at the stairs and directing me to them, were still burned into my mind.

I clutched my pillow with both arms, sobbing into it desperately, pleading for the nightmare to end. I could still hear Mommy screaming, but I didn't dare run back downstairs.

Then the nightmare ended as quickly as it had started. A loud cry, high-pitched and unfamiliar, sounded from downstairs. I flew down and followed the sound, emerging in the living room. Daddy was standing there and almost not breathing, he was nearly passed out. Mommy was sitting on the sofa, her face really red and tired, but still smiling, covered by one of those wool blankets Oscar would always knit right before winter. In her arms sat a little bundle of sheets and flesh.

Daddy sank to his knees, crying and thanking the ceiling for some reason. "Thank you, Ashunera, thank you..." he breathed. He must have nicknamed the roof while I was upstairs.

Mommy motioned for me to come closer. Her face was still red, but she was happy. "Come here and meet your baby brother, Boyd. Come and meet Rolf."

I inched closer nervously, the reality of being on the bigger end of brotherhood still not hitting. Rolf stared up at me, his crying more-or-less stopping. Silence passed for a few seconds. Then I stuck out my tongue and pulled at the sides of my mouth like Oscar used to do for me. Rolf broke out laughing and I let my arms fall to my sides relaxed, relieved to have broken the ice.

Then he bit my finger.

While laughing evilly like Oscar when he slipped pepper into Daddy's coffee when he had just woken up.

My face instantly changed to match Mommy's. I pulled back my hand noisily and quickly, sucking on the hurt finger to ease the stinging. Daddy ran over and turned on the water pump, motioning for me to follow him and stick my hand in the cold water.

Mommy just joined in with Rolf's laughing.

_____________________________________

"Good night, Boyd."

"Night, Mommy!"

I lay in bed that night, thinking about the events that day and the pain in my finger, which still made me wince. Rolf was going to be a troublemaker, no doubt about that.

Just as I was nodding off to sleep, a cry erupted from (what I had thought to be) Oscar's empty room. Still sleepy, I trudged over to the scene of the crime, instantly becoming "outraged", as Oscar would put it.

Rolf was bawling (a big word I had learned from Daddy one sleepless night) in his crib, probably hungry or something. But, unlike me when _I_ was unable to sleep, where Mommy and Daddy would groan and glare, they were swooning over him (which a lot of girls did with Oscar), holding their hands to their chests and saying things like "How precious!" and "Isn't he just the cutest thing ever...?"

Worse yet, I went completely unnoticed. I groaned to myself and, turning around, dragged my feet back to my room. I flopped down on my bed and sighed, now wide-awake. And that wouldn't change any time soon.

At least five times throughout the night, Rolf would either start crying, screaming, banging on the walls, or all three. And Mommy and Daddy didn't mind one bit.

What a troublemaker.

Something told me we'd get along just dandy.


	5. Fear, and Faith

**Typing is very, very boring... But what else is there to do on Labor Day, right? Besides, writing Kieran dialogue is just too fun. Anyhow, this chapter was updated a lot longer than usual because I had a very bad case of writer's block. So, I began writing _Eyes on You_'s first chapter, then came back to this. As apology, this one's really long, almost as long as a oneshot. But for some reason, I really don't like this one... Ah, well. A sort of contradiction in this chapter, or something just ironic, is that the OC, supposedly a major (est. lv 20), yet when he hits a private ( 1-2, with low hp), the damage is cured nearly fully by a mere vulnerary (using the Path of Radiance healing)...Also, this one has a lot of ambiguous pairings, like ones that you can only see if you squint, stand upside-down, get two inches away from the screen, etc. This wasn't really intentional, so ignore any thoughts you might have about OscarxLucia or MakalovxLucia or KieranxLucia or OscarxKieran or whatever the heck you might get from this chapter. Regardless, enjoy. Funny, that almost seems like a catchphrase now... Though there is also some slight OscarxAstrid, I suppose, which was slightly intentional, the reason being that this is one of a friend of mine's pairings, so check his stories out, because this chapter is dedicated to FireEdge. **

**Chapter 6: Fear, and Faith**

Forget any crap they shove at you about comfortable army living quarters or clean bathrooms or good food or friendly superiors or whatever the heck, okay? Lies, all lies.

For one thing, my tent was shared with Astrid and Kieran. Astrid was fine, great, even, as she'd help me cook when we skipped out on meals, she was quiet, neat, and even kind of cute. Kieran, on the other hand, was so annoyingly vulgar, rude, and loud that I spent in excess of an hour each day searching for someone willing to trade roommates.

Ah, well. At least I wasn't stuck with Makalov or Marcia.

And the food: don't get me started. It was so horrible that most would rather live off their excrement, myself included. But hygiene was important if we expected to live in this dump, so most pretended to shovel it down, then cooked for themselves later on in the privacy of their tents.

Speaking of hygiene, the washrooms, if they could be called as such, were so dirty that the floor was completely brown, though it was advertised as white. And the water, both for cleaning and drinking, matched perfectly.

So that was how we found ourselves running from the police. Unrelated, you say? Not in the slightest; we had stolen _real_ food from the nearest inn. Don't you judge us, we were desperate for nourishment. Thankfully, the cops had eaten one cranberry pie too many. Couple that with their unfamiliarity with the slums and we were able to escape their cries of "Halt!" and "Stop, thieves!" and "Hey, Frank, can we get another pastry soon?" and the like to make it back to the barracks scot-free, all four of us, Kieran too busy cleaning the toilets for being excessively loud at breakfast.

Until we ran into said temperamental and clueless red-haired knight.

"Hold it right there, all of you!" he yelled rather forcefully, holding up his palm like some sort of traffic control officer. "And just what exactly are you carrying back to camp with those suspiciously nervous looks on your faces and those heavenly-smelling packages?!"

Being the undisputedly best gambler back in my hometown, I rearranged my face into (what I hoped was) a look of complete innocence. "What nervousness?" I replied, cursing under my breath. "We were just taking back some donations from some well-meaning townspeople." The others nodded, slightly quicker than I would've liked.

At this, he heated up like butter in the sun. "Filthy liars, all of you! Trustworthy as the chef's mystery meat! Those are stolen rations, aren't they?!" he yelled heatedly, launching into a furious tirade about "Direct defiance of expected military conduct" and "Thoughtless immoral expenditure" and "Why didn't you get some for me, heartless scumbags?!" and a bunch of other idealistic drivel. "I have a good mind to report you to superior officers!" he yelled, pointing his finger accusingly.

Just then, three soldiers rounded the corner. The two on either side looked exactly alike, to the point that it seemed eerie even if you considered them twins, and seemed to have even less experience than us. One of the two lackeys glanced at us, pointed, then stared back at the leader, or, at least, the one who didn't look like a generic, stereotypical militiaman. "Uh… Hey, boss! Look, free food!" Obviously, he was more interested in the parcels we carried than we ourselves.

The tall one smacked his subordinate loudly. "Fool, I can see that!" Then, smoothing back his glossy, raven hair in an oddly effeminate fashion and attempting to regain his composure, he turned to face us. "Well, well, well..." he sneered, emitting a strong stench of mint mixed with garlic from his glistening teeth. "What do we have here? That smells _far_ too good to be camp rations… Oh, no! Dare I ask if they are… _Stolen_?" he gasped, throwing back his arm mockingly.

He turned to Kieran, smiling in a sickeningly sweet, no-pride whatsoever, foxy, snaky sort of way. "You… I know you. Fifth platoon, Private… Kieran of Crimea, correct?" Though it was rather obvious that he was right, considering how infamous he was among the infantry, Kieran nodded tentatively. "Caught these men in the act, eh? Just report the wretches to me, and you might just get a promotion…"

As Kieran's brow furrowed, turning to face the officer, Marcia's face fell. "Please, Kieran, I can't lose this job…" she whispered, tearing up. "Don't do it, don't turn us in, we won't do it again…" Her pleading voice was quickly accompanied by that of Astrid, and eventually my own. Makalov even got down on all fours and began begging for mercy, bowing his head repeatedly like a dog, something which I'm guessing he was fairly used to.

The soldier twitched, then began seducing Kieran again. "Come on, Private… We mustn't allow these curs to sully the good name of justice, now can we? You can trust me… Just tell me their names, platoons, and the crime they have committed. Do so and you can be my second-in-command! Me, Major Djiit himself!" At this, his lackeys started, but he quickly smacked them both. "So…" he finished, extending his arms at his sides like some sort of deity. "What'll it be, Kieran?"

The reality of being discharged struck me: I would lose my paycheck, eliminating most income for the family. We would all starve to death. Boyd and Rolf. "Kieran…" I begged. "Please…"

"Come on, report them, all of them, turn them in like they deserve…"

"Don't do it, we'll have to scrounge like dogs for food!"

"Releasing them will only serve to show them that they can get away with anything!"

"No… Don't…"

"Kieran!"

"Kieran!"

Suddenly, the mighty Red Scourge spun around and faced us- and he was _trembling_, _crying_, even. "Shut up, all of you fools!" he screamed. "I cannot hear myself think!"

"What do you _mean_, 'think?" Marcia yelled back, placing her hands on her hips. "We're yelling at you for a reason, dummy!"

He began crying even harder, sobbing like a baby without its bottle, though he tried to hide it, sniffing, facing the ground, wiping away the tears with his arm. "Which is exactly why…" he said, trembling. "How could I not report you if I can't think? Y-you four… Are my best f-friends… How could I turn you in?"

The word struck a chord. I had been fairly popular back home, but, thinking about it, I never had anyone to talk with, to laugh with, or to cry with, someone special to me. Only Kieran had noticed me for who I was, though he rarely did it for long because he was always challenging me to something or other. But it had never occurred to me that he had considered me more than a rival.

Unfortunately, the words struck a chord with Djiit as well, though his goons were too busy telling inappropriate/immature jokes. "It seems… That I'll have to do this the hard way…" he said softly. Then, hardening his facial features into a deadly snarl, he drew his sword with a cold, metallic echo and sprang forward.

"Astrid! Look out!" I yelled, swinging my lance in a circle and gripping it in both hands. I leaped in the way, just in time for his blade to connect perpendicular to my weapon. "Astrid… Are you alright?" I grunted. She nodded shakily and scurried out from under me. "Someone, get help!!" I yelled through gritted teeth. Through the corner of my eye, I saw Kieran dashing off.

"Not bad at all…" he said, grinning. Breaking the standstill by suddenly twirling his blade, he twisted and went in for another strike, this time toward my chest. I attempted to block, but he dropped like a stone in a feint and quickly swung up. He was actually fairly adept at combat, despite his carefully manicured nails saying otherwise.

A searing pain erupted in my right arm, causing me to drop my weapon and scream out in pain, clutching my arm with the other and sinking to the ground. Djiit leapt back, swinging his blade in a circle, then bringing his arm down, his sword parallel. "It seems you're still new to pain… You're fogging up, the darkness is closing in, you can't see… This is the end of the line."

The major was right. My vision was getting blurry, I could only see the general shapes and colors of things.

And I was beginning to discover true fear.

Djiit sprang forward.

Twin streaks of blue barreled in from either side, spinning and switching sides. A steel X appeared across Djiit's chest, his head in the center of the space. One swift movement in and his head would be separated from his shoulders.

"Not an inch further, major, or I introduce your neck to the edge of my lance." the one on the right said softly. The voice was male, rough, cracked, our age, give or take a couple years.

The other one tossed me a package with their free hand. "Eat that vulnerary, the wound on your arm looks pretty bad." spoke the other one. This voice was clear and strong, female, slightly younger than the other.

I fumbled with the bag for a moment, then drew out a handful of herbs and downed them. My vision cleared instantly, just in time to see Djiit nervously address twin blue-haired soldiers. "Now, now, Lucia, Geoffrey. Is this really necessary? I was merely attempting to discipline some delinquent recruits…"

"Bull." spat Geoffrey. He was clad in stunning dark blue armor from the neck down, and in his hands he clutched a glistening silver spear. His face was young, rugged and handsome, but his eyes were heavy with death. "Your sword is drawn. A lower-ranked soldier is injured. An obvious, flagrant abuse of power and violation of misconduct regulations."

Lucia nodded. Her sky blue hair flowed down past her waist, complementing the white, collared shirt, which went with the tailed skirt she was wearing. Her face was very beautiful and her eyes were like black holes, so I didn't blame Kieran, who was standing behind them with another, older man, for staring at her blankly, though I'm pretty sure that, rather, Makalov was instead gawking at her partially unbuttoned top.

She motioned with her free hand, and the other man came forward. His dark hair and moustache matched his cape, which wrapped around his golden armor, which, judging from the dull color and scratches, was a lot older than I was. "Djiit…" he murmured in a deep, gruff voice. "We've been through this before… We're going to have to discharge you…"

The twins turned to us as the two soldiers left, one of them kicking and screaming. "Grand General Renning is taking Djiit away, he won't bother you any longer. Geez, two times and that idiot still won't learn…" Geoffrey mumbled, pressing his hand to his forehead and grumbling. Then smiling and extending his hand, he introduced himself. "Colonel Geoffrey XIV of Crimea, fifth platoon, and my sister Lucia."

"Private Oscar of Crimea, son of Arthur, also fifth platoon." I replied, taking his hand and shaking it. "And this is Kieran, Astrid, Marcia, and Makalov." Each saluted as their name was said.

"Very well, very well." Geoffrey said, reaching for a hip flask at his side and taking a long sip, and promptly spitting it out. "Wait a second, Oscar- did you say Arthur, as in 'Grand General Arthur, Hero of the Second Civil War?!"

Lucia sighed at her brother's flustered antics. "Honestly, Brother… Oscar's been injured, he needs time to recover. You can obsess over your idol later." She grabbed her brother by the scruff of his neck and dragged him off, shouting at us over his tantrum. "I suppose we'll be seeing you later. Good luck and Godspeed!"

The rest of the group began to split up. Marcia and Makalov went back to their tent, needing to rest. Astrid thanked me for saving her and scurried back to ours, wanting to prepare the (still unaccounted for) food ahead of time, leaving Kieran and I alone.

I scratched the back of my head nervously: unlike the red-haired knight, I had never been as comfortable saying cliché and profound things. "Um… Kieran… Uh, I'm sorry… For not having faith in you…"

Kieran froze, and silence passed for a few seconds. Then he broke into his usual goofy grin and clapped me on the back. "Don't worry about it, you fool. We are loyal friends after all! Now, come, we must see what Lady Astrid has cooked up, it wouldn't for any good to waste food, especially such rations with such a large value compared to our normal sup. Besides, I am famished through and through!" And we began walking back to the tent, talking and laughing.

"But that doesn't mean that you are not my lifelong rival, and I cannot pass up an opportunity as such to defeat you and claim the winning record! I challenge you to a most glorious eating contest!"


	6. School, and Bonding

**Geez, I hate advance program homework... I mean, we've already started the freakin' _Science Fair_, which, I will tell you, is complete hell on earth. Regardless, I managed to complete this chapter, which marks the first (and unfortunately, likely to be the only) chapter starring Rolf! Like Boyd, I toned down vocabulary a bit, but not merely as much. I'm sure you all know the reason why. Personally, I don't like this chapter very much, since nothing really happens, but I hope it's bearable. Actually, anything involving Rolf should be, so enjoy!**

**Chapter 6: School, and "Bonding"**

"C'mon, squirt! You don't want to be late for your first day of school, do ya?" called a voice from downstairs.

"Coming!" I shouted back as hard as I could, looking through my lunch pail one last time. Inside was an apple, a roll, a bottle of water, and a few pieces of red meat. Perfect.

I shoved my lunch into my pack and jumped down the stairs two at a time, making loud thumps each time I landed. Boyd stood in the door, crossing his arms, tapping his foot. "Well, that took long enough…" Then he smiled. "Ready to go?

I nodded and ran over to Mommy, hugging her middle and scrunching her dress. "Be good, okay, baby?" I grinned and followed Boyd out the door.

We walked for a while down the dirt path without saying anything. A dog barked somewhere, making Boyd jump ten feet in the air. He blushed, grabbing my hand and running toward the village. People under tents were everywhere, shouting loudly and saying random things like "fresh bread" or "juicy pears" or "sweets and candy here". At that last one, Boyd lit up and ran toward the voice.

He looked over the rows of stuff for a while. There were brightly colored wrappers, cakes, pies, candied apples: anything imaginable. Boyd licked his lips slowly, then threw some coins onto the counter and reached for a small piece of pie. The old man behind the counter rubbed his hands together and smiled, showing lots of yellow teeth, as Boyd looked down at me. "Want anything, kiddo? It's on me today."

I looked down in thought for a couple seconds, then turned to face him. "Um... No thank you, Mommy always says not to have candy until after dinner."

Boyd stared into the distance for a few seconds, then shook his head quickly and hurried toward the school.

We walked for a bit longer. All of a sudden, Boyd began humming, which he didn't do very much. "What's wrong?" I asked. "Is the pie that good?"

He froze and looked around, blushing like Oscar when he had come home for the winter and took a drink from this one bottle and got up on the table and started hiccupping and dancing. Then he leaned down to my ear and cupped his hand around his mouth. "Um… Well, y'see… There's a transfer student here who arrived here last year, her name's Mist, maybe a year or two older than you, and I'm really looking forward to seeing her. I think she's really cute… But don't tell anyone, okay?"

I didn't understand half of what he was saying, but I nodded back and smiled like Oscar had taught me when he came back for the summer anyway. Boyd took an out breath and we started walking again.

He scratched my hair as we got near a big building. "Alright, squirt, here we are. Have fun and don't get into trouble, okay?" He was _really_ one to talk, but I nodded back up a him as he turned and ran over to talk to an older blue-haired boy.

The rest of the morning was mostly spent playing getting to know each other games. The teachers would throw around a big bouncy ball, and whoever caught it would say their name and an interesting fact about themselves.

An older girl with bright orange hair caught the ball next, grabbing it in the air and hugging it to her chest. "Um… Well, my name's Mist, and I'm ten years old… And my dad's a mercenary." At this, everyone began to _ooh_ and _aah_. I didn't see the big deal myself, but I went along with it.

Clearly embarrassed, she tossed the ball randomly, and it happened to land in my open hands.

Everyone suddenly began staring at me and blinking, like they were waiting for me to say something amazing. I felt my cheeks getting warm, but I started talking anyway. "Um… Ah… My name is… Uh… Rolf… And I'm…" I looked up and started counting on my fingers. "Seven…? No, eight, and since my Daddy used to be a knight, I can kind of use a bow…"

At this, the other kids got so loud that the teachers had to give up and let us have some free time. Most of the older boys took a ball and ran outside. Some girls took a hoop and followed them. Younger girls ran over to the dollhouse, and everyone else and me walked over to a few tables.

There were lots of coloring pencils laid out in neat stacks next to a pile of paper, as well as charcoal and more, yellowed paper that had stuff already written on it: some sort of nonsense about "Dragons and Dungeons". I shrugged and began coloring.

A few minutes later, Mist came over from the dollhouse, looking very bored, and sat down next to me. "Hello… Rolf, was it?" I nodded, smiling "politely" like Mommy had showed me, and went back to work. She looked over my shoulder. "Wow, that's a beautiful… Fish!"

I straightened up and looked into the distance for a few seconds. Then I turned to her and frowned. "But it's supposed to be a tree…"

Mist blinked, then began to giggle. Then another boy began laughing. It spread, and pretty soon the whole class was rolling on the floor, giggling to tears.

Then someone farted.

________________

By the end of the day, everyone was having such a good time that a big "aw…" sounded when one of the teachers said that it was time to go, but she hurried us outside anyhow. I looked around worriedly, since Boyd wasn't anywhere. Suddenly, a big cheer came from inside, and the really big kids came running out as fast as they could. I ran to meet Boyd, but a hand on my shoulder stopped me.

I turned around, only to be nearly tackled by a sea of orange. Mist let me go after a few seconds, tilting her head and smiling. "Today was really fun, Rolf. See you tomorrow, okay?"

I grinned and nodded, hugging her back, and waved goodbye as I ran toward Boyd. He glanced off at Mist, softly saying something I didn't understand: something like "Little punk, how'd _you_ get a hug from her…"" Then he smiled and scratched my hair again as we started walking back home. "So, Rolfie, did ya have any fun, make any new friends?"

I nodded happily. "Me and Mist did a lot of coloring. We even played ball with the big kids for a bit!"

He stopped and frowned, but quickly started walking again. "That's… Nice…" he said slowly. "Anyway, what did you learn? Any new words?"

I stopped to think back through the day for a bit. "Oh, yeah!" I said, clicking my fingers like Daddy had taught me. "I'm not sure what it means, since one of the other kids said it, but I think it was something like…"

"Idiot meathead!"


	7. Family, and Brothers

**Um... Well... Hi...? Anything I say here is going to sound really tacked-on, seeing as it's literally been forever since I've updated. It may seem rather redundant by now, but sorry. Anyway, here's the last chapter. It's sad, to be sure, but what I'm most worried about is my writing style- a lot has changed since I'd last written for this, so it may seem as if this was written by someone totally different. On that note, it's not exactly every day I finish a story, so please review and tell me how I did. Thank you for reading this, and enjoy!**

**Finale: Family, and Brothers**

Kieran waved goodbye to me as he departed through the darkness, wheeling his horse around through the slush with a loud cry that seemed to pierce the air for miles. I did likewise, pressing on through the biting chill toward a lone light shining in the distance. Finally reaching the stable, I dismounted and gave my steed a few well-earned, affectionate strokes to the mane, something it acknowledged with a soft, delighted whinny. Satisfied with a sugar cube and a relatively warm stall, it nodded, dismissing me.

I came up to the door and knocked three times, a dull bang sounding from the wood as I pulled my wool scarf tighter around my neck, a handmade holiday gift I had received from Astrid. There were a few unintelligible shouts from the inside, some scuffling, and the door was wrenched open from within, swinging through to reveal a joyous young boy who promptly gasped and tackled me. "Big brother!" he cried happily. "It's been so long!"

I patted him on the back and set him down with a smile, taking his hand and leading him back inside. "It's good to see you as well, Rolf," I said. "What's it been now, three years?" He paused, counting on his fingers, then nodded enthusiastically. "Wow, it seems a lot longer than that. But you've really grown a lot, you know?"

He grinned. "Yeah, that's what Mommy always says, that I'm growing up too fast. And guess what? I've gotten so good with bows that I can get a quail from forty feet in one shot!" I raised my eyebrows in surprise. Certainly, Rolf was a prodigy, but that level of skill and power for his age was unheard of. "Mommy, Daddy, Boyd!" he yelled as he dragged me through the house. "Look, Oscar's home!"

Boyd walked through the kitchen doorway, setting down a covered dish on the table. He looked much older, much more well-defined. Perhaps it was the responsibility of being oldest. He strode over to me, putting his head to mine and comparing his height to mine with his hand. Acknowledging the noticeable difference, he sighed dejectedly and looked down. "Hi, Oscar…" he mumbled.

Rolf and I laughed. "Don't worry," I said cheerily, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Just a few more years, Boyd." He sighed again, then returned to the kitchen, motioning for the two of us to follow him.

Father was busy at work with a carrot and a knife at the cutting board, while Julia was stirring a pot while sifting through some old notes and recipes. Noticing me, the former nodded curtly as I did the same and returned to his work: ever since I had joined the military, the connection between the two of us was much rougher, rigid. Julia, on the other hand, squeezed the air out of my lungs with an unnecessarily forceful hug. She stepped back and looked me over as I tried to regain my breath, prideful tears forming in her eyes. "Oh, Oscar," she whispered. "You look so grown-up now, so strong… Your mother would be proud."

I felt a pang of guilt at my chest: I had never made her feel welcome as my own mother, there was no other reason that she would phrase it that way. Simply replying "Thank you," I busied myself with carrying food out to the table, as did Boyd, Rolf having to settle for setting the table due to the size and weight of the various plates.

Excluding the occasional belch from Boyd, dinner that night was a relatively quiet affair. With my income and Boyd's rapid maturing, Julia now had more free time on her hands. Thankfully, she had decided to invest it in cooking lessons, which worked like magic: she was constantly fielding questions from the neighbors about how long she cooked this or what else she put in that. We couldn't talk because our mouths were stuffed, and that was fine by us. Besides, we didn't really have anything to say or have to say anything in the first place. Everyone knew what was on everyone else's mind, so there was no point in talking.

It was good to be home.

* * *

Rolf had, naturally, taken my room in my absence, so I had opted to sleep in Boyd's room. Not wanting to be left out, Rolf had pulled a puppy face on Father to allow him to sleep with us. I unraveled my military bag, pulling it out and collapsing on it with a dull thump. Rolf and Boyd slept on the bed. I was rather scared that the younger would be crushed in his sleep.

We lay awake for a few hours, talking quietly in the moonlight about trivial things. Apparently, Boyd had already finished his schooling and had gotten a job at the local blacksmith's. Rolf was getting there, and had won multiple academic awards. The former had also, amazingly, been on the receiving end of a few romantic advances, though he had rejected them, claiming with a blush that he already had an interest, much to the amusement of his younger brother.

A nervous whinny sounded from the stables. Boyd looked at me questioningly, as did Rolf. There was a creak, as if that of a door. Our door. Rolf whimpered as Boyd put his hand on his shoulder in a futile attempt of consolation. Hushed whispers. Judging from the voices, there were about three or four of them.

Setting aside my fears, I opened the window, gritting my teeth against the chilly wind. I ripped off the curtains and tied them together, creating a makeshift rope, which I swung over the side. I motioned to Boyd and Rolf. "Listen," I said to them quietly while attempting to make my voice as sure as possible. "Run. I don't care where you go, you have to get as far away from here as possible. Alright?" The two nodded shakily. "Good. Out you go." They slid out the window, landing in the snow and taking off silently, looking back at me, scared. I waved back, then turned to the hall, grabbing my spear.

I stooped, gazing through the keyhole down the stairs. I was right: there were four of them, swiping gold and silver and glass and anything else of value they could get their meaty little fingers on and tossing them into a large bag.

There was a creak to my left. Sleepily, Julia took a step forward, holding an empty glass of water. Seeing the thieves, she made the mistake of screaming and dropping her cup, instantly attracting the attention of the intruders.

Below, one of them, the toughest-looking one, sneered and raised his axe. I gasped: it was a hand axe, the kind you could throw. As the bandit swung, I burst open the door and charged headlong out.

I was too late.

Something else got there first.

Father went down in a sea of blood, gasping for air as he rolled over on the ground. Julia screamed again, running to his side and collapsing onto him, weeping. She fainted as he breathed his last.

Crying in both senses of the word, I brandished my lance and vaulted over the staircase, taking down one of the thieves with one fell swoop as I landed in a fountain of red. His expression changing from merriment to rage, he slashed downward, obliterating the wooden floor under him. Dodging to the right, I stabbed, impaling an enemy on the end of my weapon, his eyes rolling back in his sockets as he sank to his knees.

The boss took a step back and looked around, assessing his losses. Twitching angrily, he charged past me up the steps, taking the unconscious body of Julia and carrying her on his shoulder. Yelling at his companion to grab the bag of stolen goods and run, he leapt out of a window and into the night, tossing a lit brand behind him.

The house burst into flame, my sight filling with dancing tongues of red and orange. Smoke clogged my lungs, causing me to cough as I searched for a way out. Spying a fell timber that revealed the harsh darkness beyond, I charged through the fires and fell into the snow, dousing my scorching clothes with a hiss.

Through the darkness, I heard a crazed, maniacal laugh, a sound that would haunt my nightmares for years to come.

I felt strong, callused hands pulling me up: Boyd's. He shouted out something I couldn't understand as townspeople arrived with what I assumed to be buckets of water, throwing their contents desperately against the house. "Oscar!" he yelled, shaking me. "Oscar, are you alright?! Answer me!!"

I tried to, but I blacked out.

* * *

The next few days went by like a dream. I was blind. The doctors told me it was to be expected, as the fires had damaged my eyes. I'd be unable to see for about a week, and even then I'd be squinting for the rest of my life. Rolf and Boyd would sit with me, unmoving. Nothing was said. It was like a cemetery. Various people came and went whose names I couldn't remember. They'd offer a few kind words, then move on with their own lives.

I waited out that week. Gradually, my sight returned, but it was as they had said. My eyes were now extremely sensitive to light, and I had to squint whenever I went out. The hospital tried to arrange somewhere for us to stay. We turned their offers down: the only people who could afford to take us in were rich snobs who cared nothing for us and merely wanted to take us for appearance's sake.

Rolf was still mute. Boyd barely said anything, either. I asked all the traveling merchants for any sign of Julia. A few showed compassion and actually thought about it, but most simply shooed us off like pests. No one had heard about her. We assumed her dead, lost, or sold into slavery in lands far off.

One day a blue-haired boy and his sister came in, introducing themselves as Ike and Mist, Boyd and Rolf's friends, although neither even bothered looking up when they entered. They and their group of mercenaries had heard of our predicament, and had offered to take care of us, being short on hands themselves. They said the life of a warrior was hard, and didn't pay too well, but it was honest work, and the group, despite being completely different, was like a little family in that they all looked out and cared for one another.

I told them I'd think about it, and they left, promising to come back in three days.

I didn't think about it much during the first two days. On the third day, after our usual tasteless, monotonous breakfast, Boyd spoke up suddenly. "Let's join the mercenaries," he said. I looked at Rolf. He shrugged, indifferent: his first sign of emotion in days. We were all handy with weapons, and we didn't have anywhere else to go.

When Ike and Mist came to call again, I told them we'd be ready in an hour.

We spent five minutes packing, four of which consisted of looking for the three gold that Boyd had kept in his pocket that he had misplaced.

We walked outside again. The snow still hadn't melted, reflecting the sunlight as the birds chirped happily. Rolf took a few steps, then sat down. He sat in front of our house in the snow. He did nothing but sit and stare at the charred ruins quietly, his legs straight in front of him.

He sniffed, tears pouring down his cheeks. "Mommy… Daddy…" he whimpered silently. Boyd wiped his eyes with his sleeve. I brushed away a tear of my own.

On sudden impulse, I stepped forward and kneeled, hugging them both. "They're gone. There's nothing we can do to change that," I whispered in their ears. "But Father and… Mother wouldn't want us moping around like this. It's going to be very hard from now on, traveling and fighting, but I know we'll get through this together. Because we're Brothers," I said, smiling at them.

They blinked, then smiled back, wiping away their tears. Boyd stood up, hoisting Rolf onto his back with a grin, ice crunching underfoot.

We set off toward where Ike and Mist were waiting, leaving the ashes behind, not looking back once.

_-Fin_


End file.
